Welcome to the Hellmouth
by AintFraidaNoGhosts
Summary: Nine/Rose "In every generation there is a chosen one. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer."
1. Chapter 1

**This story will feature characters of Doctor Who and a loose amalgamation of plots and concepts from both Buffy and Doctor Who. It's not going to strictly follow either canon, more like take inspiration from both. Hopefully it turns out well!**

_She felt the power surging through her veins, the rough grip of the crossbow digging into her hands as she pressed the trigger and sent the slim piece of wood straight into the heart of her attacker…_

_ Gathering up her voluminous skirts, she ran, drawing the beasts away from the crowd as she ducked and dodged through the forest. They were so close she could practically feel their hot breath on her neck…_

_ The lights flickered on the empty subway car as she blocked and struck the platinum-blonde creature, almost a person if his face hadn't been horribly twisted and disfigured, like something out of a nightmare…_

_ "In every generation there is a chosen one. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the…beeepbeepbeepbeepbeep."_

Rose Tyler jerked awake, still a bit disoriented from sleep but glad that her alarm had pulled her out of such unsettling dreams. She turned to the offending device and rubbed one hand over her eyes, fumbling around with the other until she smacked at the snooze button, unexpectedly feeling the plastic crack under her hand as sparks peppered her skin.

She gaped at the remains of the clock, staring between her hand and the smoking, splintered plastic, suddenly wide awake despite her disturbed sleep of the night before. She'd had the clock for over a year, and her blind fumbling in the morning had never made even the slightest ding or dent.

"Bloody piece of garbage," she murmured, pulling the cord from the wall and taking the outlet plate with it. She stared disbelievingly at the little white piece of plastic for a moment before tossing the entire combination into the bin. Of course, the first day of her new term, everything she touched would break. Definitely not a good omen.

She made a mental note to go pick up a new alarm clock, something a bit higher quality that wouldn't break after only a year of university. She could use her discount at Henrik's, she still had that for another few weeks and she was sure she had a discount card tucked away somewhere. Her classes were finished by four, she'd hop the metro into London and be back before dinner.

Satisfied with the plan, Rose got to her feet, stretched, and froze in the middle of reaching towards the ceiling. She felt...odd. Not sick. In fact, quite the opposite. She felt good. Limber. Strong. Ready to take on the world and then some. She wondered if the new vitamins her mum had given her were working better than she expected.

Unfortunately, by the time she had finished her morning routine, she was starting to suspect that something was very, _very _wrong. She'd nearly broken the shower handles off the wall, torn the sleeve clear off the tshirt she'd wanted to wear, and her shoelaces very nearly didn't survive the morning. She was moving with extreme care by the time she caught the bus to campus, and managed to get through her classes without any further incident. However, she felt an odd prickling at the back of her neck at seemingly random intervals throughout the day, almost an _awareness _she'd never felt before_. _She had no idea what that was about, or who she was supposed to be aware _of,_ and was still puzzled even as she dashed into Henrik's ten minutes before they closed.

Rose zipped through the store to Housewares, arriving far more quickly than she expected. She picked up a high quality model and brought it to the check out counter where her friend, Shireen, was ringing up a few last-minute customers.

"Rose!" she greeted enthusiastically. "'S good to see you, luv! How's uni?"

"Um, okay, so far," Rose muttered, handing Shireen her employee ID card and her 25% off discount card. "Broke my alarm clock this morning though. Bloody cheap thing."

"Well this is good one," Shireen commented as they quickly finished the sale and she shut off the light on her register. "Now I have to go find Wilson to give him the lottery money. God, I hope he's not wandering around again, I have a date tonight."

"Why don't you let me do it?" Rose asked. "I've still got my keycard, and I'll just leave out of the basement door."

"Would you really? Oh, you're a life saver!" Shireen reached over the counter to hug her friend and handed over the plastic cash bag. "I just need to count my drawer and I can go! Thanks!"

"Yeah, have fun!" Rose waved before she turned and trotted along to the staircase. Tucking the small shopping bag away in her own messenger bag, she made her way down to the basement and. She moved quickly, not wanting to miss her bus. She knew she had a lot of reading to get through before her Tuesday-Thursday classes started the next day, and she didn't want to get back too late.

"Wilson!" she called through the cavernous basement. "Wilson, it's Rose! I've got the lottery money!"

She didn't get a response. Rose sighed and continued down the hall, calling out for the chief electrician as she moved. "Wilson, I've got to hurry! They're closing the shop and I've got to catch my bus!"

As she moved through the cool, dim space she felt that odd tingling, creeping feeling on the back of her neck once again. She was instantly on edge and started walking a little more slowly, keeping her eyes and ears open for anything out of the ordinary. She took her keys from her bag and slid them between her fingers as her self-defense instructor had advised and tried her best to stay alert.

She had turned back in the direction she came when she slammed into a solid form, yelping in surprise and her fists coming up reflexively in a defensive stance before she sighed and relaxed, Wilson standing in front of her with a smile. "Hey there, Miss Rose," he greeted. "What can I do for you?"

"Wilson!" Rose replied in relief, dropping her fists but still unable to shake the odd feeling. She held the plastic bag out to him and he took it with a smile. "I brought you the lottery money. Blimey, it's creepy down here. How can you stand it?"

"You get used to it," he replied, walking down the hall and into a storage room. Rose followed, eager to catch up with her friend and coworker. "How's uni?"

"Oh, you know," Rose replied, glancing around the room filled with plastic dummies and last seasons' styles as she heard Wilson tuck the cash into a drawer. "Little odd, but then it's just the first day. What are you up to?"

"Oh a lot over the past few days. I feel like a new man in fact."

She turned back to him and gasped, heart thundering in her chest as she backed instinctively against the wall. His face had completely changed in the few seconds she'd spent scanning the room, morphing into something horrific. His eyes had gone yellow, his forehead had shifted into ridges, and his teeth were now jagged. He grinned and began stalking her as two similar creatures began emerging from dark corners of the room.

"Well," he continued. "Maybe not a man. Did I mention how glad I am to see you, Rose?"

"Wilson, what the hell is going on?" she asked, willing her voice not to shake as the three other creatures gathered around him. "What's happened to you?"

"I've been reborn," he said, spreading his arms wide as if inviting Rose to behold his glory. It took an edge off the situation and Rose actually found herself fighting back a giggle. "I'm better, stronger, faster..."

Rose couldn't hold it back this time. She snorted, pressing her hand against her mouth to stifle the noise. The smile faded from Wilson's face and he looked irate. "Sorry," she said, still chuckling. "'S just...did I suddenly fall into an episode of _The Six Million Dollar Man_?"

"You realize we're going to kill you, girl," the creature to Wilson's right side said with a snarl. "And you're laughing at us?"

Rose couldn't help her reaction. She was scared, yes, but something about them was also ridiculous. Something deep inside of her was emerging. They had no idea who they were dealing with. Rose ducked out of her messenger bag and twirled it in her hand while casually replying, "Yeah, well...you're just _so overdramatic_! I mean, subtlety is the key and all that. 'S like you're all…bad movie villains or something!"

While she giggled some more, Wilson lunged forward, faster than she ever thought possible, but she ducked instinctively and moved with almost a second nature from that point on. She'd only taken one course of self-defense last term, but it was as if her movements were in perfect compliment to their attacks. She'd never thought she'd be able to take three assailants at once, but she ducked and jabbed and swung her bag like a weighted weapon as if this were all a perfectly-choreographed dance. And she felt as though she could dance all night.

So could they apparently.

Wilson eventually got her feet out from under her, Rose losing her bag crashing to the cement floor with a thud. She hissed, the pain not nearly as intense as she expected but still enough to knock the wind out of her briefly. That respite was all it took for him to be upon her, his horrific visage filling her vision in a split second.

"Looks like you were lucky for a while there, Rose," he said with a grin, bearing his disfigured teeth to her. "Too bad it's run out."

She screeched as he dove for her neck, turning her face away and squeezing her eyes shut. But as suddenly as he was upon her, he was gone with a hiss, the weight off her body as a hand grasped hers and pulled her to her feet. Warmth spread through her from the point of contact and some corner of her mind noted that a hand in hers had never felt better than when it was saving her life.

She turned and saw a man in a leather jacket gripping her firmly, crucifix held out towards the creatures who cowered back away from the object. He turned to Rose and fixed her in his intense blue gaze.

"Run!"

Rose didn't need to be told twice. She let the man tug her forward as they sprinted away from Wilson and his cronies, his grip on her hand strong and comforting. She knew it was a bit stupid, letting a complete stranger lead her through a dark basement, but something inside was screaming at her to trust him. Her instincts hadn't failed her in fighting against the creatures, so she wouldn't contradict them now.

She could hear the pounding footsteps as they chased her and the mysterious man, who led her into a service elevator, the door closing quickly as he aimed a slender silver cylinder at the "close" button, the tip lighting up bright blue and an odd humming filling the space.

"They'll be right behind us," he said in a deep, Northern burr. He turned to Rose, assessing her quickly. "Are you all right? You aren't hurt? Bitten?"

"Bitten?" Rose asked, blinking at the man. "No, not bitten. Or hurt. Hold on, shouldn't I be hurt?" She glanced down at herself, puzzled before looking back up at the man. "And who _are _you?

"Dr. John Smith," he said simply, running his hands chastely over her face and arms, assessing her for injuries. It was very clinical, but Rose couldn't say she minded the contact.

"And what sort of doctor are you?" She took a moment to inspect him, the man who had saved her life. He was older than she was, with closely-shorn hair and a prominent nose with ears to match, but it worked on him. He was the sort of attractive that Rose would never have thought to look at twice before, but she now found that she had to force her gaze away from his face. Maybe it was the whole saving-her-life gratitude, but she was instantly drawn to him. She felt safe in his presence, the lingering panic and fear she'd felt before calming and now all she wanted was answers.

"Oh so now's the time for conversation?" he snarked. Rose had to bite her lip to hide her smile. "Doctor of Parapsychological and Metaphysical Studies. Now can I have a bit of hush?"

"What? Why?" she asked, confused as the elevator door opened. She turned her head and saw the three creatures stalking towards them.

Dr. Smith pressed something into her hand. Rose glanced down and saw it was a wooden stake, the kind someone would use to pitch a tent for camping except noticeably larger. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

"You'll know," he said, tucking the silver cylinder into his pocket and pulling out the crucifix. He grasped onto her shoulders and locked their gazes. "Trust me, you know what to do."

Without warning, he spun her around, the surprised "What?" forming on her lips before he shoved her out of the elevator and towards the three.

"Trust your instincts," he called to her.

"My instincts are telling me that you're asking for a smack in the face!" Rose called back, ducking a swing from Wilson. She heard Dr. Smith chuckle, a deep, velvety noise that she would have appreciated had she not been fighting for her life.

He was right, much as she hated to admit it. She did know what to do with the stake. As soon as she had an opening, she plunged it into the heart of one of Wilson's cronies, who glared at her with shock before he disintegrated into dust before her. She did the same to the other, and was finally faced with the man she once called a friend.

"What have you done with Wilson?" she demanded as they circled one another.

"But I am Wilson!" he told her, his face morphing back into the one she knew so well. She'd seen him every day over the summer, and he'd always been willing to help her adjust. If someone had talked down to her because she was new or simply because she was working at a shop, Wilson was always ready with a pep talk and a few choice words for the other party. She lowered the stake and relaxed her defensive posture just a bit, still on edge but far too confused to think about fighting this person. "Rose, it's me, honestly!"

"Don't listen to him," Dr. Smith called from the elevator. She turned and felt her annoyance flare as he stood there, leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest and looking completely at ease. "He's a demon, nothing more. And mind your head."

"What?" Rose asked as she felt the impact at her middle. Wilson had tackled her to the ground, his horrible visage visible once more as he went straight for her jugular.

Rose felt the stake penetrate his chest cavity, silently thanking whatever God of physics was out there that Wilson didn't seem to think his attack through. He'd lowered himself onto her stake when her hands had come up in an instinctive defense against his attack. She saw the shock on his face right as he turned to dust above her.

Rose lay on the floor, panting, for several moments before she could finally speak. "Okay, you seem to know everything," she said, still staring up at the ceiling. "What the _hell _just happened here?"

She turned to the elevator, ready to demand answers. Dr. John Smith, whoever he was, was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the delay! My writing time has severely decreased lately with my work hours going up like crazy. This is a short one, I'm hoping to have 3 out this week. Thank you all so much for reviewing and reading, and thank you ten thousand times to my betas silver, aaa, who_in_whoville, kelkat9, and timelord1. I couldn't get a single word written without them :-)**

Rose shot up in her bed, breathing hard, images from her nightmare still assaulting her. The same awful creatures she'd fought were crawling through her dreams. Except this time, they weren't after her. Instead they had Martha, Mickey, and even Rose's mum, and no matter how hard Rose struggled, she couldn't get to them in time.

She'd left Henrik's and gone straight home, her mind whirring the entire trip. She had forgotten all about dinner and homework and had gone straight to bed, falling asleep after what felt like hours of tossing and turning. Then all she'd seen were horrific images of the same creatures she'd faced that day torturing her family and friends.

Still, one of them in particular had stood out, and it in fact had been his face that had sent her into her waking panic. He'd been practically snow-pale, his eyes were red and demonic, and he radiated power. He'd been far more terrifying than anything she'd ever seen in her life, and yet, she couldn't ever remember coming across him before.

Rose sighed, scrubbing her hands over her face. Despite her disturbed, relatively short night, she felt rested enough to start her day. She still spent it in a constant state of alert, unable to shake the distracting feeling that she was being watched or even followed.

Even her best friends, Martha and Mickey, noticed that she wasn't entirely herself. They had all met for lunch, and Rose had a hard time following the conversation.

"And then I threw on your old tutu, Martha, remember that one? From when we were five? Sorry, I think I may have torn it. But then I danced through the quad without anything else on and kept singing 'I'm a pretty pretty princess.' The Dean wasn't too happy."

Rose glanced sidelong at Mickey. "Oh you think you're so funny. Sorry, I know, I'm in another universe right now."

"You worried about classes?" Martha asked, taking a bite of her salad. Studying medicine had made the young woman a health nut, and she often lectured Rose on her preference for chips.

"Not...really..." Rose hesitated, not entirely sure if it was a good idea to tell them what had happened the night before. Martha and Mickey had been friends since childhood. Rose had only met them when they'd been in the same orientation group their first term, but they had been inseparable ever since. She didn't know if brilliant Martha or sweet, goofy Mickey would have her sectioned if she told them the truth. "I just...didn't sleep well last night."

"Oh, me either," Martha replied. "Kept getting nightmares about being chased by a giant syllabus, yelling 'final exam is worth 75% of your grade!' I don't need to be a psych major to know what _that's _all about."

Mickey grinned and seemed about to respond when Rose's mobile started ringing from her pocket. Confused, she retrieved it and noticed that the number was a university extension. She clicked the phone on and, still puzzled, brought it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Is this Rose Tyler?"

"Yes…?"

"Miss Tyler, my name is Donna Noble. Your bag is currently taking up a ridiculous amount of space in my office and it would be fan-bloody-tastic if you could come retrieve it before we all die of old age, 'kay?"

Rose was taken aback but, at the same time, fighting the urge to smile at the sassy woman on the phone. "I'm sorry…how did you get my bag?"

"I don't ask questions, sunshine, I just do as I'm told. Someone might need this chair, you know, the one your bag is keeping well-occupied."

"Right, right," Rose replied. "I'll…come get it now I guess? Where are you?"

"Fifth floor College Hall. Parapsychology Department. Thanks, sweetheart."

"No-" the phone went silent before Rose could even finish her response. She stared at it, confused, before mumbling, "-problem," and sliding it back into her pocket. She shouldered the rucksack she'd been using in place of her usual messenger and turned to Martha and Mickey. "Looks like someone found my bag. I'm just…gonna go, I guess. I'll see you later?"

The both offered casual good-byes and Rose headed in the direction of the building, not one she usually took classes in but still familiar on the small campus. She took the elevator to the fifth floor, which opened up immediately to a set of blue double doors labeled "Department of Parapsychology and Metaphysical Studies. Chair, Dr. John Smith."

Rose sighed. Of course, with the way the past few days had gone, this was where she would find Dr. Smith again.

She pushed open the door and gasped, the room looking disproportionately larger on the inside. It took up two floors and was filled to the brim with bookshelves, tables, storage cabinets, and both comfortable and not-so-comfortable looking chairs. A standard-issue university desk sat tucked to one side of the door, where a red-headed woman was typing briskly at a state-of-the-art computer system.

A separate door sat back a bit from the desk and, as Rose's eyes drifted towards it, she smirked. Dr. Smith was lounging in the doorway, arms crossed, dressed almost exactly the same as he'd been the night before except he was wearing a navy jumper instead of dark hunter green. He smirked right back at her and Rose suddenly had to fight back the urge to wipe the cocky expression off his face by any means necessary.

"You know, you didn't have to resort to stealing," she told him teasingly, crossing her arms over her chest. "If you wanted to get me into your office, all you had to do was ask."

"Oh, I like her," the woman who was presumably Donna Noble said without looking up from her task.

Dr. Smith shot her a look before turning back to Rose. "Well, Rose Tyler, fact is I still had your bag." He picked up Rose's messenger from a nearby chair and held it out towards her. "Would be rude of me to keep it from you. You might miss your copy of _Twilight _after all."

"Oi!" Donna interjected. "Don't knock it. Taylor Lautner makes a damn fine werewolf."

Dr. Smith rolled his eyes. "Donna, I say this with all due respect, but could you please _shut it?_ Just for a moment?"

Donna rolled her eyes right back but remained silent. Rose stifled her grin before once more addressing Dr. Smith. "As if I would read _Twlight _anyway. I'm a Harry Potter girl all the way."

"Good," he smiled at her. "Horribly inaccurate anyway, those books. As if vampires _sparkle. _Complete bollocks."

"And how would you know what a vampire looks like?"

"You do," he retorted, regarding her seriously. "You saw three of them last night."

"Right," Rose snorted. "They were vampires. And I'm the bloody queen. Nice to meet you."

Dr. Smith regarded her seriously, but didn't respond.

"Oh, come off it!" Rose laughed. "Seriously? Vampires? Have you been down at pub? 'S barely noon, mate."

"Donna, could you hold my calls?"

"Hold your own bloody calls, Doctor, I'm going to lunch," Donna sassed back, pushing a button on the phone and shutting down her desktop.

Dr. Smith once again rolled his eyes. Rose had a feeling that this was a regular occurrence between the odd pair.

"You better watch out or your face will get stuck that way," Rose offered.

"Fantastic. Now I've got two women ganging up on me."

"And you need it," Donna told him as she breezed out the blue doors. Rose heard the click of the lock before she turned back to the man in front of her.

"Dr. Smith-" she began.

"Doctor."

"What?"

"Just 'the Doctor'. Or 'Doctor' if you prefer."

Rose shook her head. "That's not even a proper name. I can't call you 'Doctor.'"

"Sure you can. Everyone does."

"Yeah, well, I'm a rebel."

"Fine," Dr. Smith huffed before stepping to the side and gesturing gallantly at his office. "Miss Tyler, if you would follow me into my office, I'd be happy to explain everything."

"Please," she replied, trying hard to reign in her sarcasm as she plucked her bag from his hand and entered the small room. It was dim, with hazy daylight filtering in through the closed blinds, and crowded. The walls were lined with shelves and broadcasted various framed certificates and diplomas, though they were uneven and looked in need of a good dusting.

As she surveyed the room, she realized there wasn't a single bare surface. Everywhere Rose looked, there were oddly-shaped bottles filled with mysterious liquid and labeled with odd, concentric circles that she supposed made sense to Dr. Smith, random bric-a-brac, and several objects that she couldn't even begin to identify except for the small, snowy stuffed owl tucked up on one of the shelves. Even his desk was cluttered with books, scrolls, cogs, bits of wire and what seemed to be an assortment of tools she could never even hope to recognize.

Dr. Smith grabbed the pile of papers off one of the chairs and gestured quickly for her to sit down. He began rooting around in his desk drawers, pulling out a heavy volume before coming back to her and plopping it down on one of the only clear areas of the desk. It was huge and practically ancient, with the word "VAMPYR" brandished across the cover.

Rose could practically feel the blood draining from her face. This couldn't be real. None of this could _possibly _be real. She felt her jaw drop and she turned to stare at Dr. Smith, who was perched on the edge of his desk and regarding her seriously.

"Little humans," he murmured, shaking his head. "Always last to believe what is right in front of you. You fought them, you watched them turn to dust. You woke up yesterday inexplicably stronger, faster. And yet you still try to find the most rational explanation."

"What do you mean, 'humans'?" Rose blurted out, startled at the fact that she was choosing to focus on _that _detail. "Are you saying…you're _not_?"

"Not entirely," he told her. "That all right?"

"Yeah…" Rose replied, surprised at how easily the response came.

She watched as something like relief spread across his face. He pushed back off the desk and leaned against one of his shelves. "I'm a Watcher, descendent from an ancient race of beings that have been helping protect humanity for eons. I was placed here because of you. To train you, to teach you."

"Why me?" Rose asked, her voice sounding small even to her own ears.

"_In every generation there is a chosen one-"_

Rose gasped, recognizing the words from her dreams.

"_She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer."_


End file.
